


Three Summers

by momothespicy (momothesweet)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch Jesse McCree, Cunnilingus, Deadlock Jesse McCree, F/M, First Time, Morning Sex, Overwatch Retribution, Post-Fall of Overwatch, Reader-Insert, Reunion Sex, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Waiter Jesse McCree, Waitress!Reader, but really tho who is it's overwatch lore ffs, how the tables have turned!, not really - Freeform, sort of canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-07-28 11:30:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20063317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/momothesweet/pseuds/momothespicy
Summary: Summertime's a good time to be with Jesse McCree on three separate occasions.





	1. Cool and Sexy

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still here, still kicking.
> 
> This is supposed to be my little summer project. I wanted to start earlier, but, you know. Life and all that. Hopefully I'll finish this little fic by the time school starts up again!
> 
> Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're a good girl. He's a bad boy. Can I make it any more obvious?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deadlock Jesse and reader are implied to be over 18.

Route 66 brings in travelers and locals alike, especially during the summer. The Panorama Diner is a hub for good conversations and warm apple pie. Being a young waitress isn’t exactly the most glamorous job you can have, but a job is a job, and if you ever want to get out of your small town, you’ll need to save some money. And collect as many tips as you can with your customer service smile and menu recommendations.

Closing shifts are, for the most part, your favorite. Most of the time, it’s families who need a quick bite or lonely travelers who need only a drink and some solitude. Other times, it’s people swooping in a minute before you lock up begging for a steak dinner. Either way, you’re left to clear tables and close out the register, because you’re surprisingly one of the only responsible employees who won’t snatch the tip jar or steal a ten-pound bag of fries. Once you lock up, you can step out, let your hair down, and wait for the bad boy with the motorcycle to pull up and call you “sweetheart.”

You met Jesse McCree one late night a few months ago when he needed some coffee and a rag to wipe off all the soot and sweat off his face. You knew he was trouble the moment he walked in, parading all of his Deadlock Gang gear and blowing smoke from his cigar as if he’s warning you that he could burn the place down in a second. Everyone in town and their grandmother had told you about all the nasty things they’ve been up to in the southwest. And yet, you couldn’t help but take his order and tell him all your hopes to get out of this town. What can you say? He’s a good listener. A really good-looking listener.

Tonight is no different than any other night he’s taken you out. He stands right outside the diner, leaning on his motorcycle and tipping his hat when your eyes meet. “Evenin’, sweetheart.”

Your heart skips a beat and you smile. “What kind of mess have you caused this time?” you ask, fluttering down the steps to be captured into his arms. Judging by the mix of body spray and a hint of cigarette smoke, you figure he’s trying his best to keep you from just one of his many bad habits.

“I have no idea what you’re talkin’ about,” he answers, kissing you immediately. “I’ve been a good boy.”

You float. He’s your age and as ambitious as you are, doing his best to get those coins and get a better life for himself by...questionable means. How he got tangled into the gang, you aren’t very sure. The two of you don’t talk about work very much. Then again, you figure that it’s best not to know. If any authority catches up to him, you’d rather know less than more if they try and hunt you down for an interrogation.

You kiss back then pull away to pat your mouth dry and giggle. “I’ll take your word for it, then. Where are you gonna take me tonight?”

He pauses. As much as you give him shit for being a wanted man in three different states, he’s quite the gentleman. Always pays for your meals (with stolen money?), sneaks you into the Cave of Mystery first before himself, carries you through private property to get the best view of the stars. Oddly enough, the most you’ve ever done with him is make out in the back of your beat-up sedan that currently needs an engine change. It works to your advantage since you haven’t been with anybody else before him and the thought of getting any closer is, well, scary. The longer you see him, though, the more you want to take that leap and go for it. You’ve already gotten this far. What’s the worst that can happen after spending a night with him?

“I’ve got something in mind,” he answers, taking your hand and helping you onto his motorcycle before he starts it up again. “Hold on.”

You do as told, wrapping your arms around his waist as he speeds off onto the road, passing by fast cars and zipping through tunnels into the night. You usually have your eyes closed when you’re on his motorcycle, and when you open your eyes this time, you have to blink a few hundred times over to make sure what you’re seeing is real.

Jesse’s taken you to a city about an hour away from your hometown. Of course he sped his way through to get you here. More specifically, to get you to a fancy restaurant that should be closed by now. You’ve heard nothing but good things about this place, a facade adorned in marble and stained glass. The five-star reviews, the awarded Michelin stars, the celebrity reservations. You could only dream of walking into a place like this. Here you are, though, in your uniform that smells like syrup, standing next to a class-A criminal who wants the best for you.

“Don’t need to change into nice clothes or anythin’,” Jesse says. “Got the whole place to ourselves.”

“Jesse,” you say breathlessly, still stunned that he managed to get you here, “I, how--”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, taking your hand and leading you to the entrance. “Let’s go. You must be starving.”

Despite your incoherent doubts and questions (and Jesse’s dodgy answers), you don’t deny your hunger. Ironically enough, you hardly get a break at work to have a bite yourself. A fancy place with food has food and that’s what matters. The restaurant floor is empty, save for a massive omnic wearing a bowler hat and an apron. He serves the two of you throughout the night, pouring wine and water and dishing out the juiciest steaks you’ve ever had the pleasure of eating. The fat that melts in your mouth doesn’t even compare to the cheap t-bone served at the diner. Bite after bite, you savor every moment and pretend you don’t hear a gun cocking and a woman yelling obscenities from the kitchen. Jesse tells you stories of different cities he’s been to and how big organizations are coming to supposedly protect the people.

“Have you seen how much they been on the news?” Jesse asks you after swallowing a considerable piece of steak. “Actin’ like superheroes tryna fight crime around the world.”

You shrug. “Overwatch is more than just a new age Interpol, though. I hear they’ve got a state-of-the-art science department that’s revolutionizing nanotechnology and cellular reconstruction.”

“Whoa there,” Jesse interrupts, putting down his fork as if he needs a minute to process all the big words you just said. “Thinkin’ about joining them?”

In truth, you’d love to. Everyone’s told you how you’re going to be successful someday, how you’re going to graduate at the top of your classes and get a job with humans and omnics alike. Overwatch is a prestigious, highly competitive organization, though, and getting in will be a steep, uphill battle.

Jesse taps your wine glass and you snap out of thinking about all the things you’d have to do to apply to Overwatch. You smile meekly, picking up your glass for a toast and taking another sip. “I don’t know if it’ll be right for me. We’ll see.”

“_ You’ll _ see,” he corrects. “If you get into Overwatch, I’ll quit Deadlock.”

You snort. “You wouldn’t. Wouldn’t Ashe try to kill you?”

“Not if I kill her first. Ain’t that right, Bob?”

Bob, the omnic serving as your waiter tonight, returns to your table with a cart carrying a covered silver platter. He doesn’t verbally respond to Jesse’s question, only blinks and lifts the lid to reveal an immaculately-decorated chocolate cake. Little gold flakes decorate the top, along with chocolate molds of leaves and flowers.

You almost forget what the two of you were talking about at the sight of the cake. “You’re really something else. I’m gonna get in a whole lot of trouble if people find out I’ve been hanging around you.”

“That ain’t gonna happen,” Jesse promises, reaching across the table to take your hand. “I swear on my life.”

It’s those little moments of sincerity that keep you coming back to him. You smile and dive right into a slice of cake once Bob hands the two of you gold dessert forks.

A nice meal, good conversation, and an exhilarating ride back to your town have you craving for more. You hang onto Jesse just a little bit tighter on the ride home, pressing your chest against his back like he might get the hint that you want more than just a dinner for this date.

It either seems to work or he’s already got more planned. He parks right outside your apartment complex, an older building wedged between too many other housing units with not enough parking. The moment you’re both off the bike, he grabs you by the hips and brings you in for a kiss sweeter than the cake you had for dessert. Nobody’s out this late in your tiny town off the side of the highway, so you shamelessly throw your arms around him and kiss right back.

“You finally gonna come up to my room?” you ask him.

Jesse raises his eyebrows, totally thrown off to see you making the first move. He massages your hips and you have to keep yourself from moaning when he replies, “You sure you want me to?”

You nod, bringing your fingers to the front of his shirt and pulling him towards you. “Please. How can you take me out to a nice dinner and not spend the night with me?”

He laughs quietly, brushing his forehead against yours and kissing you again. “Didn’t think you’d want a bad guy like me to be your first.”

You blush. “You can tell?”

“Sweetheart, you’ve got innocent written all over you,” he murmurs. “Remember when I first tried to kiss you?”

Your face grows hotter when the memory of teeth clashing comes to the forefront of your head. “Don’t remind me. I’m better at it now, aren’t I?”

“Sure are.” Another kiss, deeper this time with his tongue wrapped around yours. “You really sure about this?”

You tug his shirt again, pouting. Your stomach flips and the words stagger out, “Jesse, _ please _. I...I don’t want to use my fingers again tonight.”

That does it for him. Jesse’s eyes widen and he’s the one pulling you towards your apartment like he knows where it is. You trail right behind him and show him the way. Getting inside your apartment is already a challenge, thanks to the neck kisses and Jesse’s fingers cheekily trying to hike up your uniform. Your body tingles all over.

“If you keep that up, I’m not going to be able to open this door,” you breathe, successfully getting the key into the lock after your hundredth attempt.

“Then I can have you right here, let the world know who’s gonna be your first,” Jesse whispers in your ear. There’s an edge in his voice that you’ve only heard on occasion. It makes it that much harder to get inside.

But you make it. After kicking your work shoes off and throwing your purse somewhere in the mess of your small space, you turn around kiss Jesse again. He gladly kicks the door closed, grabbing your ass and hoisting you up so you’re squealing and clinging to him like velcro. It’s totally not obvious that you’ve never been picked up before.

You point in the direction of your bedroom between kisses and Jesse follows, tossing you onto your bed once he’s there and yanking his boots off. Within seconds, he’s back on you, all the while you sink into bed and your heart beats like it’s about to burst out of your chest.

You’ve never done this before, never had another person in your bed who wants you like this. Getting out here and getting a job at your age was a priority, not finding, well, whatever sort of relationship you have with Jesse. Your nerves get the best of you, though, when he shifts to kiss your neck and tuck his hands beneath your uniform to touch your thighs. Gasping, you cling to him, unsure of what to do next.

“You okay?” he asks, brushing his fingers against your skin. “Need me to go slower?”

Laughing nervously, you shake your head. “I’m fine. It’s just all new to me.”

Jesse hums, taking his hat off and leaning back down to peck your lips. He looks good without his hat. Messy brown hair tickles your cheeks as he nips your chin. “I think I can help you relax. May I take this off?”

He pulls the fabric of your uniform and you nod. Your breaths come slow when he unbuttons the outfit, taking his time and treating you like fine jewelry. Part of you wishes for the power to go out so he won’t be able to see your trembling fingers or curious gaze. The air conditioner is already spotty; might as well have the lights go out, too.

The garment eventually comes off and you’re left in the best underwear you can buy with your small paychecks: a matching set of cotton and lace in your favorite color. Nothing high-brow or revealing, unfortunately, but Jesse’s drooling like a dog when he sits on his knees and whistles.

“You look mighty fine,” he says, running his hands up your sides and saying your name. It sounds like honey dripping off his tongue. 

His touch falls right on your breasts, cupping you through the fabric as you heat up and arch instinctively towards him. He snickers. “That feel good?”

You can’t imagine how helpless you look, how every touch is completely new but completely exciting and you don’t want him to stop. You respond to him with a nod, placing your hands over his as they massage you. He continues with more kisses, more small squeezes to make you feel comfortable in your physical vulnerability. It helps.

“May I?” Jesse hooks his finger under the middle of your bra and pulls. 

You nod, then reach up to tug his shirt. “Only if you start taking your clothes off, too. I don’t want to be the only one.”

Jesse responds with a smile, following through and peeling off his clothes one by one. As he pulls off his undershirt to reveal hair and muscle you crave to touch, you unhook your bra as a sort of courtesy. You don’t know how many other women Jesse’s been with, and you’d rather just make things easier so Jesse can go on doing whatever he’s doing to get you both off. The sight of you doing so makes him groan. You press your thighs towards his legs that keep them apart.

He pulls away your bra and plants his mouth on your chest, using his mouth all over again and you want to kick yourself for holding out. It feels _ good _. Your hands move on their own and slide up to his hair, fingers curling and back arching when he sucks your nipple.

Stronger than you are, Jesse comes up and grabs your wrists, kissing one of them as he scoots back and falls lower onto your body. “You’re going to wanna hold on in a second.”

You understand when he lets go of your wrists and drops his hands to your hips, toying with the garter of your underwear. It takes a deep breath and some kisses before you give him the green light to get you completely naked. He does the same and you stare when he strokes himself.

“Like what you see?” he asks.

Your entire being burns for the wrong reasons. Groaning, you cover your face and turn sideways, legs tightly closed. “Jesse!”

He laughs all too loudly, coming to hover over you and kiss up your arm to your neck. “Come on, sweetheart,” he says. “Earlier you told me you didn’t wanna finger yourself tonight.”

“That was different,” you pout, shifting and covering your chest with folded arms. “I was just trying to be cool and sexy.”

Jesse softens, murmuring your name and pecking your nose. “But you’re already cool and sexy.”

You keep pouting. “You think I’m sexy?” 

“Shit.” He looks you up and down, then down between his legs. “Didn’t you see what you were doin’ to my dick?”

That makes you snort. Relaxing a little more, you open up again, unfolding your arms and spreading your legs. “Alright, alright, cowboy. Can we, uh…” you point down between your legs.

“Absolutely.” Jesse positions himself between your legs, warming you up once more with little kisses up your inner thigh. He takes his time to get to your groin. When he does, he uses the tip of his tongue to lick you right up.

Every dirty story and video makes sense now. Jesse’s tongue is magic and your body morphs all your senses to the pleasure he gives you. With his hands on your thighs to hold you open, he plays with your clit, circling and sucking. As he expected, you reach to grab his hair, locking him in place so he can eat you out until you say otherwise. You drip onto his wandering tongue, giving him a taste of who you are, every muscle twitching for more.

Pulling back, he slides his middle finger up and down your pussy and licks his lips. “You want _ my _ fingers inside you?”

You nod with no hesitation. Jesse easily and slowly pushes his finger in your tight heat. It’s a familiar feeling of being filled, though new because he’s clearly got longer, thicker fingers than your own. The combination of that plus his mouth back on your clit sparks stars in your eyes. Sweat drips down your skin as he works you open, adding a second finger when he sucks your clit. You pull his hair and curl your toes, coming right on the spot when he curls his fingers just right.

He groans between your legs, keeping his fingers buried inside you for as long as he can before cleaning you up. Your skin stays sensitive when he sits on his knees, patting you like you did a job well done. Post-orgasmic bliss flows through you, so you aren’t as embarrassed when he looks down and strokes himself again. In fact, you’re ready for some more.

“I take it you’re feeling more than okay,” Jesse muses.

You nod, wiggling in bed and holding your arms out. “Kiss me?”

“Of course.” He comes down to do so, his own body covered with a thin film of sweat. Air conditioning be damned; it’s hot for all the right reasons.

His cock rests between your legs, twitching like it needs to be inside you right this second. He takes his time kissing you, though, feeling you up and making sure you’re beyond comfortable. “Condom?” he asks.

After some thought, you nod. “Please?”

Jesse proceeds to lean over and find his pants, digging up a small square packet from his pocket. A silence falls between you two, giving you time to lick your lips and get comfortable being naked with another person. You slide your fingers to your clit, rubbing slowly as he rolls the condom onto himself.

“I’ll handle that,” Jesse says, swatting your hand away to rub the tip of his covered cock against your clit. You whimper. “I’ll go slow, sweetheart. Promise.”

You trust him. Coming forward to kiss you, he guides the tip of his cock inside, holding your hip in his other hand while you inhale sharply and get used to the feeling. He bottoms out with a low moan, only for you to do the same as you clench around him. The discomfort subsides quickly thanks to Jesse’s care, only starting to move when you say so. His whole length makes you wetter, makes you twitch and grab his shoulders and moan for more. You wrap your legs around him as he takes control, pressing your hips to the bed and moving faster once he can feel you can take it. And boy, you can take it.

“So fucking _ tight, _” Jesse moans, muttering your name between curses and slaps of your skin against his, “so good at taking my cock.”

It’s near impossible to answer. You stay latched onto him, more so when he finds that sweet spot inside you again and you clench around him. “Close,” you cry out, “Jesse, Jesse please--”

He fucks you harder. Sweat from his brow drips onto your body. Your nails dig into his skin. One of his hands releases your hip to rub your clit in tight circles that send you far over the edge. “Come for me. Come all over my cock, sweetheart. Let me feel you.”

One thrust after another, then another, combined with him rubbing your clit, is too much Moaning so loudly you know your neighbors will complain, you come hard, scratching your nails down his back and rocking your hips up continuously. You can feel your orgasm drip out of your cunt, slicking the rubber around his cock. Jesse comes shortly after you, filling the condom with rough groans and biting kisses on your sweaty skin. As the two of you breathe heavily and calm down, the heat from the lack of air conditioning, not the fucking, settles into the room. Despite that, Jesse kisses you, finding your hands so he can interlace his fingers with yours.

“You okay?” he asks, so quietly you can barely hear him. “Was I too rough?”

You shake your head, letting out a breathy laugh. “You were perfect.”

He chuckles. “You’re only saying that because you never slept with anyone else.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you say, letting go of him to rub his cheek. “I liked it. I_ really _ liked it.”

“Mm. Think you’re up for a round two?”

Jesse jokingly nudges his hips and you whimper once more. You grab his nose and wiggle it. He whines. 

“I’m not some kind of super soldier,” you say. “We need a bath first before I even think about you doing that to me again.”

“Ohh. I like the sound of that.” Jesse pulls out once you relax your legs, then disposes of his condom and runs his fingers through sweat-slicked hair. “Shit. I’m gettin’ in that tub with you. Hot as balls in here.”

You sit up and hold out your arms. “Carry me. We can be cool together.”

He doesn’t miss a beat scooping you up and pecking your lips. “Anything for you.”

The bath is a much-needed reward after tonight’s date. You kiss him over and over without a care in the world, without the realization that he could disappear from your life at any moment in time.  



	2. Maybe I Need You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After losing him long ago, you run into McCree by chance in Venice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 is here! Sooner than I expected!
> 
> I did my best to line it up with Retribution and this interaction between Reyes and McCree:  
Reyes: This mess was all worth it to see McCree trying to pass himself off as a waiter.  
McCree: I thought I did just fine.  
Reyes: You got fired from your cover job, Jesse.  
McCree: The lady was being rude. She had it coming.
> 
> Plus an additional one between Moira and McCree regarding the Italian accent. You know the one ;)
> 
> Enjoy!

Life takes you places. It takes you out of your hometown into a bigger university in a bigger city, with so many people and so many new and exciting faces. It takes you to big companies and research labs and nonprofits to help do more good in the world. All those dreams in your head are starting to come to life. Every breath you take is inhaling new experiences and new feelings all at once. Joy and insight, disappointment and re-evaluation.

Thus, a step forward doesn’t always mean a step in the right direction.

You sit with your back straight and your legs crossed, hands over your lap when you speak with the director of a prestigious medical research lab in Venice, a massive change from your smaller jobs back in the states. Though poised, beautiful, and well-spoken, you know better than to trust a powerful woman who takes you to a nice restaurant but doesn’t thank the driver who brought you both here nor the hostess who seated you two. Even taking your glass of water to drink feels risky.

So far, you haven’t dropped the ball. You tell her about your humble beginnings and your educational background, plus your experience in the field and the research you helped conduct. “All of it was eye-opening, up to my latest job,” you say. “I never thought I’d be able to contribute to something as revolutionary as human organ regeneration.”

“That type of research has been ongoing since the 1900s,” she shoots back. “I wouldn’t say it’s  _ revolutionary _ .”

There’s strike one. Before you can redeem yourself, a bottle of wine appears before the woman.

“Bone-a sera sig-nora,” the waiter says in a joke of an Italian accent. “Can I get you somethin’ to drink?”

You look up and you could die right there in the middle of the restaurant. 

It can’t be him. Jesse left you long ago in the night, going off to help with some arms deal by the diner you used to work at, only to be caught in the morning by Overwatch. Whatever happened to him afterward, you had no idea. All your tears had been shed back then. You knew you had to move on. You thought he was gone forever, a memory for a rainy day.

Now, he’s a...waiter in Italy?

Your heart nearly bursts when he turns to you after your potential boss waves him off with a scoff and scowl. His eyes meet yours and you can see how everything comes back to him, too. At least, that’s what you hope. It’s been so long; you can only imagine what the hell ever happened to him after his arrest. His smile nearly brings you to tears as he holds up the wine bottle towards you. There’s a long moment before he speaks again.

“And for you...sweetheart?”

He remembers you. Turning away in hopes of hiding the way you gush like all those years ago, you give yourself a moment, then nod. “Yes, please.”

Jesse pops open the bottle and pours way too much into your glass. You don’t care. All you’re able to say is a small “Thank you.”

He doesn’t take his eyes off you when he presumably informs both you and the woman, “I’ll be back with some menus.”

After he steps away from your table, you take your almost-full wine glass and sip what you can before spilling it onto the tablecloth. It’s a sweet red wine that reminds you of the first time he spent the night with you. The woman continues to scowl. This time, towards you. “Americans. Always so excessive.”

Seeing Jesse somehow keeps you collected. Looks like you won’t be getting a job here, so all you have to do now is last through this dinner and you can formally decline the job offer (if you’re even getting one) later on. No use walking away now; there’s absolutely no chance in hell you’re leaving if it means being around Jesse, even though you still have no idea why he’s here. Or alive. Faking a terrible Italian accent.

Jesse stands there until he’s forced away again by your future colleague-but-not-really when he hands you menus. He doesn’t stray too far, as far as you can see, so you’re able to get a glance at him every now and then as you stare at pasta options. The woman snaps for him to return.

“The spaghetti con pomodorini,” she says.

“Ben-ay,” he answers, then quickly looks at you.

“I’ll have the ravioli and burrata,” you say.

The woman huffs and says something in Italian that you can’t make out. Before you can say anything else, Jesse frowns and turns back to her. “‘Scuse me, ma’am. Did you have somethin’ to say?”

She leans back and her eyes widen, bewildered that someone would ask such a thing to her. “Why would I want to speak to someone like you?”

“Someone like me?” Jesse repeats. You spot an earpiece and he knocks it off his ear. “That how you treat everyone who ain’t on your level?”

“Excuse me?”

He says your name. “She deserves better than whatever the hell you’re runnin’ here. Someone might say that you associate yourself with the  _ wrong _ people.”

The woman begins to curse and speak in Italian. In English, she spits, “How dare you accuse me of being associated with Talon!”

In a split second, she takes your glass and flings the wine in his face. Gasps go around the floor, and a very angry manager plows through the kitchen doors right to him, speaking more Italian and the very distinct interjection, “You’re fired!”

Jesse takes the napkin from your table and wipes his face, then tosses it to the woman, beet red and ready to punch him. She holds back and he walks away. Your legs move on their own, pushing back and launching yourself from your seat to follow him through the kitchen and outside into an alley. You ignore the outbursts and the commotion behind you.

Stumbling outside, you already see him attempting to light up a cigar. You walk up to him and snatch the cigar away, replacing it with your lips. He happily kisses you back, wrapping his hand around your waist and shoving the lighter back in his pocket. Old flames come alive all over again. You wiggle your legs when he lifts you with that single arm. Has he gotten stronger?

“Oh, sweetheart. It’s so good to see you.”

You can’t stop kissing him. “You’re alive,” you manage to say with a laugh. “Jesse, where have you been? What are you doing in Italy? I thought...I thought—”

He sighs deeply, putting you down and rubbing your sides like he’s getting to know your body again. “Tryin’ to do some right in this world. Followin’ your footsteps.”

You snort. “And look where that got me.”

He leans in, pressing his forehead against yours. You hear indistinct yelling from his earpiece around his neck, with some semblance of his name. Multiple voices. Curious, you take a hold of it. “What’s this?”

Jesse takes his earpiece from you and pushes a tiny button to turn off whatever voices were coming in from the other end.”Nothin’ to worry about. You still hungry?”

You nod. “You owe me dinner and a  _ very _ long explanation.”

You notice the hesitation in his eyes. There’s something, or, perhaps, a lot of things, he looks like he’s already starting to filter. When he doesn’t respond, you peck his lips. “You don’t have to tell me everything. I’m sorry.”

Jesse shakes his head and kisses you back. “Don’t apologize. I’ve got plenty to tell you.”

You squeeze your crepe in your hands when Jesse tells you more than enough. His arrest in Route 66, the ultimatum to join Overwatch (sort of?) or go to prison forever, their current mission to capture a man responsible for an earlier attack in Oslo. He explains Talon to you, what it is and how your potential boss may have been associated with the group (you definitely dodged a bullet, there). You’re sure he’s breaking a million and one protocols by telling an outsider all of this information. Not that you mind it very much. Who are you going to tell?

“Thought you wanted to join,” he says as he rips off a piece of his crepe. “I asked about you. What happened?”

You hide the disappointment in your smile. Thinking back, you remember your multiple attempts to get accepted, your pleas to Captain Amari, and your ultimate decision to take an indefinite break from trying again. Unwilling to express any heartbreak tonight, you answer, “Just wasn’t really in the cards for me after all.”

Jesse doesn’t answer to that. Maybe Captain Amari told him about how the basic training took a toll on you, how every person in Overwatch, including the science department, must have a fundamental understanding of combat and wield a weapon of their choice. You couldn’t fulfill that. “Too nice” was how she put it. Not ready for the reality of what they do. You’re quiet, and you use that silence to eat your crepe and at least put something in your stomach after waiting so long for food tonight. The bitterness almost goes away. Almost.

When it’s quiet for too long, Jesse puts an arm around your waist after he finishes his crepe, keeping you close to his side. His shirt reeks of wine, splattered and stained burgundy. The two of you pass over a bridge, still littered with tourists here and there taking pictures of the cool summer night. It beats the heat you had to endure in your hometown; you can at least wear a light sweater to cover your skin and insecurities.

“I had real ramen for the first time when I went to Japan,” he tells you to break the silence. “I didn’t know some mushrooms looked like pins.”

So he’s been traveling, too. Obviously. You smile. “I had real Kobe beef there. Best steak I ever had.”

He brightens. “You’ve been to Japan, too?”

You nod, then go on about your own time since Jesse left. While the two of you took very different paths, you both somehow find common ground in traveling. Most of the time, Jesse spent it in shadows, late at night so people won’t know Overwatch’s best-kept secret. You’re the ray of sunshine, showing him all the tourist destinations and the fancy food he missed. The more you speak, the more you realize that you don’t need some massive international force to make you happy and fulfill your dreams. You won’t completely cast Overwatch out of your sights, but you certainly don’t need it to continue working and doing the things you love. By the time you finish another tale of an experiment gone wrong in the lab, he’s walked you all the way to your hotel room. It’s odd to see Jesse without his hat. That’s not so much the case when you’re in bed with him. That’s something you  _ really _ missed.

“Sounds like you’ve been havin’ a time of your own,” he says. “You don’t need Overwatch.”

“Maybe I don’t, but,” you pause, wrapping your hands around his neck and leaning up to kiss him, “maybe I need you.”

Jesse murmurs your name and kisses you back, making it difficult once again to open the door and let him inside. You stand by your statement. It’s not a bold declaration or a ploy to get Jesse to stay longer than he can. The years have passed and it’s painfully true that you can never forget your first.

As you kiss him, you unbutton his god-awful shirt and do your best to fling it off his broad shoulders. It doesn’t work very well. He laughs against your lips, taking his shirt off the rest of the way then pulling off your sweater.

“Tell me,” he says, voice an octave lower, “have you thought about me since I left?”

He puts a hand around your back to unzip your dress in one quick smooth motion. You try to make quick work of his stupid belt buckle. Some things haven’t changed. “All the time,” you answer. “I’ve had nobody else like you.”

“Nobody else, huh?” He drops your dress onto the floor and nudges you to the bed, where you fall back and rest on your elbows. A lot has changed since your simple underwear back then. Tonight, you don barely-there, lace panties and a push-up bra in black. You’ve been wanting to buy a set with your hard-earned money. What better way to get it off by having your first flame do it for you? Judging by the way he crawls to you and kisses up your torso, he’s more than willing to do so.

“Sometimes—” you hesitate when he kisses your neck and you moan, “sometimes I have to think about you in order to come.”

“ _ Fuck _ .” He slides his fingers beneath your wet panties. Of course you’re already wet. “So needy for my cock, huh?”

He rubs your clit and you squirm in bed. “Yes,” you moan. “Yes, please, Jesse. I need you.”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere, sweetheart. I’m right here.” He slowly inserts a finger inside you, lips back on yours as you moan against him. Nothing’s changed in the time you two were apart; he still knows every little motion that sets you off, every touch that has you begging for more. Your panties are completely soaked by the time he slips in a second finger and curls it right to that spot that has you crying out loud.

Jesse laughs, muffling your noises with a kiss. “You’re gonna wake the entire city if you keep that up.”

You smile helplessly and slap his shoulder. “Inside me. Now.”

He takes his fingers out and sucks them, eyes falling shut as he lets out a low moan. “Say no more.”

The rest of your clothes come off. You can let Jesse linger on your lingerie, but you know that he hungers more for what’s beneath it. You spread your legs eagerly for him, subtly lifting your hips and reaching between your legs to spread yourself. You don’t miss the way his cock twitches when you do that.

In one easy, slow push, Jesse fits himself inside you. The feeling floods all of your senses, bringing you back to a simpler time where it was just motorcycle rides and no air conditioning. You wrap your legs around him and moan again in a plea for him to start moving. He slides out to the tip of his cock, then slams back in. You grip the sheets and moan even louder, pressing your legs tighter around him.

“I missed this,” Jesse moans, gripping your hips and fucking you slowly but roughly into the bed. “ _ Fuck _ , you feel so good.”

Jesse works you up until your skin burns, sweat dripping down your brow with your mouth agape and moaning nonstop. No other partner has made you feel this good, made you feel this alive. You clench around him with every thrust, taking every inch he’s got with no trouble at all. 

You figure out that he’s definitely gotten stronger. He breaks free from your legs, holding one right against his chest and moving even faster. The angle makes him hit deeper inside you, and your body rightly reacts to the way he moans and moves you like a ragdoll. His cock hits that sweet spot of yours in this position, too, and all it takes is his hand to drop down between your legs, rubbing your clit and holding your leg tight enough so you don’t move at all.

It doesn’t take his words to make you come. The pressure builds and builds and you writhe in bed, coming hard and twitching nonstop to meet his thrusts. Jesse keeps up with your movements, skin slapping against yours with every breath and grunt until he pumps his orgasm inside you, saying your name like a prayer.

Seconds pass and he drops your leg, ungraciously moving you so that you’re on your back once more. He remains inside you, falling forward to kiss you over and over, to rub your sides as if he may have hurt you at any point. Nothing hurts at all. 

“Are you okay?”

You nod, holding him to your chest and playing with his hair. “More than okay, cowboy.”

“Good. You deserve more than okay.”

“The best?”

Jesse laughs. “Well, I’m not one to brag, but—”

You laugh with him, but it’s cut off when you hear something vibrating around the room. Jesse immediately shoots up from your hold, pulling out and crawling around the bed as if his clothes are within an arm’s reach. He bends over the edge of the bed to grab his pants and dig out his phone. You sit up and reach for a stray towel by a side table to clean up. At the same time, you listen to Jesse speak seriously.

“What do you mean, we have to go now? Antonio’s not—”

Watching Jesse’s face go from relaxed to alert is discomforting, to say the least. A few more protests and Jesse hangs up, sighing deeply with his palm to his face. You toss your towel aside after cleaning up and crawl to him, taking his hand from his face to kiss his fingers. “If you have to go, go.”

He looks at you, frowning. “I don’t want to leave you again.”

“Jesse—” you kiss him square on the lips this time, and again. It’ll hurt to see him leave you once again, possibly for another long period of time (or the last time), but it has to be done and you know it. “I’ll be fine. You have a job to do.  _ Go _ .”

He sighs again, moving around the room to get his clothes back on, save for the stained work shirt. You clutch it in your hands as he finds his radio and turns it back on, checking the mic. “McCree here. En route to base.”

You get his shirt on, then follow him to the door. He turns off his mic and holds you by the waist, kissing you one more time. You try to make it last as long as possible, try to make it so that it makes up for the one night years ago when you weren’t able to properly say goodbye. You think he’s doing the same.

“Come find me after you get the bad guy,” you say.

He chases your lips for one last kiss. “I promise I will.”

You see him off, darting for the stairwell and into the night. You really aren’t sure if Jesse will actually return to you. Hell, you aren’t sure if Jesse will actually  _ live _ after his mission. What’s important is that you were able to see him again, to catch up and let him know that you’re doing okay, even though your plans back then have strayed from its original path.

Despite being older and a touch wiser thanks to your experiences, though, you still can’t hold back your tears when you shut the door behind you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where will part 3 take us? Stay tuned my friends!


	3. Anything For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been years since Venice and the fall of Overwatch. You've changed, and so has Jesse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternative summary: fuck following canon that's too hard
> 
> I hope you all enjoy the conclusion to this fic! It's not totally summer related, but the feeling remains. :)

You remember waking up, opening your phone, and finding every social media site on fire.

The exposure of Blackwatch. The assassination of Antonio. Jesse’s name along with his teammates released out for the entire world to know. To slander. To question.

It was the beginning of Overwatch’s ultimate downfall, something you never saw coming. Jesse hinted at the tension when you saw him in Venice. You didn’t think it would all lead up to the explosion in Switzerland.

You got letters from him, here and there. Postcards, love notes, anything that wouldn’t be digitally traced back to you. It all stopped after the incident in Switzerland. You figured something happened to him then, and you accepted it. For real, this time. You don’t blame him. You don’t blame Overwatch. You don’t blame yourself.

You only blame yourself for all your failed relationships over the years. Being too passionate about your work is apparently a deal-breaker for some people. That, or it’s really long hours at work that keep you from actually  _ seeing _ your partners. Breaks have become a luxury over the years. Love, you think, is the same way. 

When you aren’t traveling the world making connections, your new home base lies in Los Angeles. It’s a lively, massive town full of every walk of life. You work at a local hospital partnered with a university to teach and utilize the newest technology for emergency medicine. It’s the closest thing you’ll ever get to being “in on the action.” Just because you’re getting older doesn’t mean you can’t stay active and lively as you can. It gets you through all the loss and heartbreak that crosses your mind.

On a day off, you decide to take a trip down to the diner. Your first job, your first time being thrown into the harsh real world. You swallow hard when you hear the warnings over the radio, then spot the sheer amount of damage around the place. It looks as though there’s been a train robbery. The diner, however, is untouched.

You don’t know what possesses you to go inside. It’s absolutely barren. Not a single soul was crazy enough as you to go inside after a supposed attack. However, the jukebox is still going to an old tune, and you spot an unfinished piece of apple pie with a cup of black coffee in a booth. A small tip was left there.

Someone’s been here recently. Though, when you scope the premises, there isn’t anyone in sight. Left defenseless and without motivation to leave, you head for the kitchen and fix yourself some dessert, too. You cut yourself your favorite slice of pie, put a dollop of whipped cream on top, and pour yourself a cup of coffee made to your liking. None of the food was quality here, but you’ve had worse.

It’s quiet once the song on the jukebox ends. The eerie air of the diner fades away as you eat and find yourself at peace with what you’ve done with your life so far. School, job offers, job losses. A relationship here and there, but no blatant profession of love. The more you dwell on that fact, the more you’ve made it clear to yourself that only one man has affected you in such a way that he’s practically ruined it for everyone else you’ve met. You hate him for that.

And you love him.

You relax in your booth with your cup of coffee once you clean your plate. The bell to one of the entrances rings, and you freeze. Footsteps approach your booth, slow and deliberate. Behind you, the person hangs their hat and what you can only assume is a belt full of ammo.

It’s as if you’ve died and this is your purgatory.

Like a ghost from his grave, Jesse takes his seat across from you in the booth. Plopping down, he leans back, his black coffee in his...prosthetic arm. Your eyes are immediately drawn to it.

“Don’t bother askin’. Wouldn’t wanna make you cry again.”

You laugh bitterly. “I think I’ve cried enough for you when I thought you died. Twice.”

He raises his arms, shrugging. There’s something more nonchalant about him. Or he’s just hamming it up for you, as usual. “I’m still here, for the most part.”

It’s true. Though, your feelings clash and you can’t decide how to react to Jesse’s presence. It’s been so long; you both were young when you met, and life has hit the two of you in a million different ways. Jesse seems to have gotten the short end of the stick, despite starting anew in Overwatch. You can only imagine how much pain he’s been through. It shouldn’t compare to your sorrow. Is it a blessing that he’s still here? Or just another pointless dream you’ll wake up from when he disappears on you again?

Jesse sips his coffee as silence fills the air for too long. He sours when he puts down the mug. “Never really liked the coffee much here.”

“Heh. Even when you first met me?”

He nods. “Didn’t know what else to order. Couldn’t stop starin’ at your pretty face.”

You shake your head, still smiling. “Would you say the same thing about me now?”

He doesn’t hesitate to nod again. “As beautiful as the day I met you.”

Your heart can’t help but skip a beat. None of his charm has faded. Like a fool, you still fall for it. “You’re really still attracted to me after all these years?”

He frowns, as if you’ve offended him. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Hell if I know,” you say, sitting up as you try to gather your bearings from seeing someone for the first time in ages. Again. “I can’t keep doing this, Jesse.”

“Doing what?”

You motion your hands between you two. “This—this whole ‘meet each other every several years’ thing. Are you planning on leaving me again?”

He looks ready to argue with you, but he doesn’t. When he doesn’t answer, you continue, “How long are you going to make me wait after this? I can’t keep waiting for you.”

“I never asked you to wait,” he says. “What the hell have you been up to anyway? Why are you here?”

You frown, too. It’s your turn to answer and you take a long time to do so. You go with the truth, “Reminiscing.”

Or, really, were you thinking that he might be here?

He stares. The two of you know better. Age and experience do that. Working out a very long, fragmented relationship is going to take a lot more than some bad coffee in an abandoned diner. Neither of you speaks. It’s a stalemate.

You’re the first to break the silence, gaze shifted from his face. “I spent so long trying to get over you. Nobody else made me as happy as you did.”

Jesse leans forward, resting his forearms on the table. “Am I supposed to say sorry?”

After some thought, you shake your head. “You have nothing to apologize for. It’s me.”

“Oh, sweetheart. It’s never been you.”

A second passes and you can feel Jesse trying to reach for your hand. There’s no reason for you to not hold it. He keeps his prosthetic tucked under his other arm.

“Overwatch is over,” you say. “What are you gonna do now?”

Jesse looks ahead instead of answering you, presumably at the damage outside the diner. You squeeze his hand and ask, turning your head slightly to where he’s looking. “Did you do all that?”

He shakes his head. “I just stopped it from getting worse.”

You laugh quietly. “Trouble always follows you, huh?”

“Guess I can’t run away from it.”

You play with his fingers, thinking some more. This is your chance to say something and turn the tides. He doesn’t have to run anymore. If that’s what he wants. Another pause and you offer, “Can you hide?”

You meet his eyes as he replies, “What do you mean?”

“I mean...stay with me for a while. Live a normal life away from all this?”

When it comes out of your mouth, your stomach turns. It’s an awfully selfish thing to offer to Jesse, but what else have you got to lose? Him again, sure, but that’s already happened. Twice. What you’d give to maybe, even just for a little bit, live a normal life with him.

You break down in tears when he nods. “I think I’d like that.”

As much as you’d like to “reunite” in the middle of an abandoned diner with the jukebox going to his and your favorite song, you opt to have him follow you home, back to LA. You drive as fast as you can; by sunset, you lead him inside once you park in your driveway to your home sweet home. It’s a small house in a decent neighborhood, with enough room to add all the personal touches. You’re not surprised when you feel so much more at home the moment Jesse steps inside, kicks off his boots, and gets rid of all his gear. He hangs his hat over the edge of your couch and that’s your cue to pounce.

You wrap your legs around him and he immediately kisses you back when you do. His beard has grown thicker since you last saw him in Venice. It scratches deliciously against your cheeks when his lips wander to your neck.

“Where’s your bedroom?”

You point to it and he carries you all the way there. Your bed is bigger and softer. It’s as though you’re landing on a cloud when he drops you in the middle. He slides off his serape and his belt (still ugly), then falls on his side next to you. Every memory comes to a head when you two kiss. Those late nights at the diner, the walk in Venice, the stacks of letters stashed away somewhere in your bedroom. You want to tell him how you really feel, how this means everything to you.

When he pulls back, he holds your hand. “Sweetheart?”

“Hm?”

He kisses you again. “As much as I want to fool around with you...can we just fall asleep together?”

Your heart soars. “Of course, cowboy. After I take a shower. Join me?”

“You bet.”

In the near-two decades you’ve known Jesse, the last time you shared your bathing space with him was back when you spent your first night together. It was so long ago; you were younger and weighed less, not completely exposed yet to the harsh realities of the world around you. Even so, the way Jesse looks at you when you strip down...nothing’s changed.

Why didn’t you go looking for someone you knew was only right for you?

The question stays in your head when you wash your hair, Jesse standing right behind you to do the same to himself. He reaches for your shoulders and squeezes gently, massaging all the tension out of you. Almost all of it.

“You’re thinkin’ too much,” Jesse interrupts. “What’s on your mind?”

You turn to embrace him and rest your head on his shoulder. The first thing that comes out of your mouth is “I’m sorry.”

He rubs your back this time. “Hm? Sorry for what?”

“For...not trying hard enough.” You lift your head to look up at him. The water hits his face just right, hair flat and sticking to his face. It’s cute and your chest hurts. “I love you. I should have gone looking for you. I have all the time and the money to have done it. I’ve been so alone without you. I love you so much and—”

“Shh,” Jesse lifts you by the cheeks and kisses you. “I love you, too. It finds a way, doesn’t it?”

You pout as your voice breaks. “But I could have found you sooner.”

He shakes his head. “You wouldn’t wanna find me where I’ve been. I could’ve lost you, too.”

Just as you try to push your apology on him, Jesse shuts you up with another kiss, holding you as tightly as he can without crushing your spine. Your tears aren’t masked by the water; he brushes them away with his thumb. “I’m here now, with you. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

For now, you trust that statement. After rinsing off all the soap and shampoo, you both dry off and get some clean clothes on. Jesse goes for your bath robe for some decency while you slip on some underwear and a shirt. Cuddling in bed with him almost feels too good to be true. His prosthetic arm brushes over yours. You put your hand over it. Jesse’s dried it well. Either that or the material is conveniently water-resistant.

“Can you still feel me?” you ask quietly, running your fingers over the metal.

He closes his eyes like he wants to avoid your gaze. His other arm holds you tighter, squeezes your waist like he’s compensating for the lack of nerves in his prosthetic. You gladly curl in closer and kiss him. No answer is an answer. You’re okay with that.

You’re also okay with him saying “I love you” before falling asleep.

Morning comes. The two of you shifted in bed at night; you wake up spooning a pillow while Jesse snores practically on top of you. The warmth grows too much and you attempt to wiggle away from Jesse; no luck.

He grunts and wraps his arms around you, turning so that you’re practically on your stomach with a pillow to cushion you between yourself and the mattress. You wiggle again, mumbling, “Jesse…”

“Mm.”

As you try to make your escape from his hold, you realize that the more you move, the more you feel something hard resting on your ass. He must have opened up his robe at some point and you’re suddenly aware of his bare body on your back. You hold still. Desire burns up in your chest and you follow through by lifting your hips as much as you can in your sleepy state. It helps.

Jesse moans your name and grinds himself against you. His cock slides up and down the fabric of your panties and you tighten your hold around your pillow. He kisses your neck once his lips find their way there, slow and lazy and barely there. It takes a while before he slides one hand down between your legs. Two fingers very slowly rub your clit until you can feel yourself soak his fingers. His prosthetic arm stays wrapped around your waist. Your moans are muffled into the pillow, more so when he slips two fingers to stretch you gently.

The heat becomes close to too much. You grow more and more sensitive, reaching down to grab his wrist. “Inside,” you whine, “inside me.”

Jesse responds with another grunt, making the effort to lift himself up and pull your panties down as far as he can, which isn’t very far. It’s not a problem; you don’t plan on moving besides spreading your legs just far enough so he can fit himself inside.

It’s a very slow, very tight fit. You tense around him and Jesse does his absolute best to keep you still and comfortable. There’s no way you’re going to admit that it’s been a while since you’ve been with someone. You’re just glad that someone now is Jesse, and he isn’t going to stray too far from you.

Your toes curl when you feel his body on yours again. He hangs onto you as he thrusts without rhythm or care, slow and lazy like there’s nothing else the world he wants to do but be with you. Tears well up in your eyes when he murmurs “I love you” in your ear.

“I love you,” you say back. “Stay with me.”

“I will. I will, sweetheart.”

Jesse begins to move a touch faster, enough for you to lift your chest and moan towards the ceiling rather than the bed. You bend your knees and curl your toes as he moves to squeeze your ass, then tucks it under you again to play with your clit.

“Jesse!” you cry.

He fucks you harder and you clench around him. No other words need to be exchanged. You raise your hips and shake as you come. You moan loudly and grip the pillow like a lifesaver, more so when he comes inside you and drops himself on top of you. The weight drives you to fall back into bed, Jesse spilling his last drop inside you and breathing right on your shoulder. His kisses bring you down from your high. You nudge him off your body and move to take off your clothes then situate yourself in his arms.

“Let’s take a vacation,” he suggests before you fall asleep again. “Wanna go to the beach with you.”

That’s not a bad idea. You’ve been working too hard and you need a lot of time to catch up with Jesse while soaking up some sun and sipping some fruity drink. Humming your agreement, you bury your face in his shoulder. “You just wanna see me in a bikini.”

“Damn right,” he chuckles. He quiets down a bit, then says your name. “Can I tell you something?”

You poke your head out and push his hair back, suddenly worried. “Yeah?”

He looks at you for another moment, as if he’s trying to figure out what he’s going to say while your anxiety builds in your chest. “Truth is, I’ve been lookin’ for you for a while, now. And when I found where you lived...I’m sorry.”

You ruffle your brows. “What happened?”

Jesse diverts his gaze, metal fingers finding yours. “I didn’t wanna walk up to your door and see that you moved on. And...I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

“Jesse,” you lace your fingers with his and kiss him. “You don’t know how happy I am that you’re here with me now. I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“Me too. I’m not goin’ anywhere,” he repeats firmly. “I meant what I said.”

You feel the sincerity in his voice. “Okay.” Another pause, and you add with a smirk, “I’ll handcuff you to this bed if I have to.”

“Ooh. Didn’t know you were into that kinda stuff.”

You laugh. “We can catch up on all of that when you take me to the beach. Let’s use that motorcycle of yours. Just like old times.”

Jesse hums, letting go of your hand to squeeze your waist. Nothing else has felt better. “Anything for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I begin school again tOMORROW so I'm really glad I got to finish this throughout the summer. Thanks for joining me on this hot journey! I send you guys love and best wishes and I hope I'm still able to write in the midst of all my other work <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments, kudos, feedback and chocolate cake are greatly appreciated. <3
> 
> [My Tumblr](http://peachofwork.tumblr.com)


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